After the Fall

by Patricia Gussin

  “Why now?” Sharkey asked, twisting a black curl in her hand.

  “Four hits just yesterday,” Long reported. “Random pickups. One, Abdul’s daughter, was questioned by the Rockville cops about a murder that occurred a week or so ago. She needed an alibi, as the dead woman turned out to be her boyfriend’s wife. She gave Badur Hammadi as her alibi. His name crossed our links, got flagged. From the same Rockville cop report, we intercepted her father’s name. When the cop asked for her father’s name, she readily gave it up.”

  “Strange,” Sharkey said. “It’s like she has nothing to hide?”

  “You said four hits,” Mintner prompted, anxious for the meeting to end, the action to begin.

  “When we intensified the cyber web over the DC corridor, we found a marriage license application for Adawia Abdul, the daughter, and Jake Harter, an FDA employee, the boyfriend whose wife was murdered. And we found an airline ticket issued for Adawia Abdul from DC to London for this Friday.”

  “So she’s going to Europe? A honeymoon?” Sharkey suggested. “That FDA guy traveling with her?”

  “Back to Badur Hammadi. Last week, satellite surveillance picked him up in Baghdad at the entrance to one of the palaces where Qusay Hussein and Hussein Kamel are holed up, presumably masterminding weapons of mass destruction beyond the reach of the UN inspectors.”

  “Airline evidence of travel?” Sharkey asked.

  “No record of Hammadi leaving the country. Must have an alias,” Long said. “Sharkey, what do you know about Dr. Jamail Abdul? Rumor has it, he’s being treated for severe heart failure.”

  “He’s a respected scientist. Heavily into the genetics of microbiology. Rumored to deal with organisms such as anthrax and botulism. I’d half expected the UN inspection teams on the ground in Iraq to unearth sites of materials he’s bioengineered.”

  “What’s our role versus the FBI at this point?” Mintner asked the prickly question. NSA was a super-spy agency. The FBI, the enforcer—within the boundaries of the USA.

  “We are consultants to our FBI brethren, but let me make this clear. The president, our commander in chief, wants those WMDs found. We’re into the tenth round of IAEA inspections and, so far, zilch. Reputations and national credibility are on the line. These connections were made solely by our intel, but I’ll have to brief the FBI. Meantime, you two get to the bottom of Badur Hammadi’s relationship with Saddam’s regime, and find out whether there’s any connection to what the Abdul woman is doing in the US and her father’s role in Baghdad.”

  Mack Long didn’t linger for his agents’ reactions. They wouldn’t be pleased about working with FBI agents, considered them infinitely inferior in both intelligence and patriotism. Reaching for two packets in an accordion file, he handed one to Mintner and one to Sharkey.

  Long stood. “Update here first thing tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4

  Fighting tears, Addie walked out the front door of Replica, heading for the FDA. She had to tell Jake she’d been denied a leave of absence, she would not be getting the $7.5 million Replica owed her. How would Jake react? In her own mind, she still hadn’t decided if she’d be better off arriving in Iraq married to Jake or as a single woman, the earmarked bride of Gabir Rahman.

  She felt a jab of reality as she approached her car. Would she ever drive again? Not a privilege enjoyed by Iraqi women. A key to independence, an independence she’d come to cherish. She needed to relish Western culture during her last few days here. As she pulled out her keys to the sleek black Audi, she noticed a tall, striking-looking black woman in a chic burgundy-colored suit. The woman seemed to be looking directly at her. Beside the woman, a white man in a dark business suit was speaking into a walkie-talkie.

  Addie with her dark skin, black hair, and black eyes often attracted curious looks. More frequently now after the Gulf War—or the American War as they called it in her country. In America now, all signs of Middle Eastern roots attracted the silent scrutiny and covert mistrust of a populace obsessed with weapons of mass destruction. For the first time, she realized these suspicions may not be so misplaced. What would she be doing when she returned to Iraq? She had to remind herself that she looked no different. You are just Dr. Abdul, a scientist, not a terrorist. Not yet. What had Jake always said about those glances, if not outright stares? “People think you are exotic—and the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen.” She gave the couple no more thought, climbed into her Audi, and headed for the FDA.

  The outdoor parking lot for the FDA at the Parklawn Building in Rockville was situated across the street from the massive structure. An elderly security guard sat in a small, controlled-access booth. When Addie pulled up, she stated she had a meeting with Jake Harter. The guard found Jake’s name on a computer and motioned her to enter. She’d expected him to call to confirm that meeting, but he had not.

  As Addie walked toward the crosswalk, she again saw the black woman and white man pair she’d seen in the Replica parking lot. How could this be a coincidence?

  “Dr. Abdul?” A woman’s voice made Addie turn, taking her eyes off the suspicious pair.

  She recognized the blond woman stepping away from a man in a pin-striped suit. “Dr. Nelson?”

  Addie hiked up her shoulder bag and held out her hand to Dr. Nelson before she noticed the woman’s right hand was in some kind of bandaged cast.

  “Call me Laura,” Dr. Nelson said, offering her left hand. “I know you’ve been trying to get hold of me. I’ve been out of the office a lot.”

  Addie couldn’t help but stare at the woman’s right hand, the bulky bandage. “I heard about your injury and I’m so sorry. And will you please call me Adawia—or even better, Addie.”

  “Okay, now we’re on a first-name basis. You know, Addie, I so much appreciate what you’ve been able to accomplish with Immunone. As the lead clinical investigator, I have first-hand knowledge of its promise for transplant patients, but it wasn’t until I took over as Keystone research VP that I realized just how innovative your early research was. Replica and Keystone, and an endless number of transplant patients, owe you so much.”

  “Thank you.” Addie was touched by Laura’s genuine gratitude. Had Replica shared this sentiment, they’d have let her keep her job. But, no, greed had taken over. This was America, after all.

  “Once we get the approval, I’d like to organize a joint celebration, some of us from Keystone and your colleagues at Replica. And how about connections from the University of Michigan? Isn’t that where you began your research on the Immunone class? One of my sons went to U of M. Kevin graduated in 1989, but you would have been long gone from Ann Arbor by then. He loved the university. ‘Go Blue!’”

  “Yes, ‘Go Blue!’” Addie smiled, recalling with a thrill the game Dru had taken her to in the Big House. The roar of the crowd when the Wolverines scored against their enemy, Notre Dame. The acrobatic cheerleaders, the University of Michigan Marching Band. Not that she understood the game, but the excitement had been intoxicating. “I loved Ann Arbor.” All this Michigan talk reminded her of Dru. Where was Dru? Addie’s elation faded to fear when she thought of the Rockville police visit to her apartment.

  Then she remembered the suspicious couple following her. Trying to look nonchalant, she checked her surroundings. Right by the security booth at the parking lot entrance, and their attention was openly directed toward her.

  As Addie focused on the lingering couple, Laura turned to her companion. “I’ll just be a minute,” she called. The man nodded, and Laura gave her attention to Addie.

  “I’m sorry to keep you,” Addie said. As anxious as she was to talk to Jake, she wanted to avoid walking by the suspicious couple if she could.

  “No problem,” Laura said. “My colleague’s anxious to get back to Keystone. We have very good news. News that you will be—” Laura stopped midsentence as an olive-green Jeep careened around a row of parked cars, heading for the exit.

 
; “Jake,” Addie yelled. “Excuse me, Dr. Nelson—Laura—I need to see Jake Harter. That’s his car. Darn. Looks like he’s leaving.”

  “That’s Jake Harter’s car?” Addie saw Laura’s eyes widen as they followed the Jeep out of the parking lot. “That greenish Jeep? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, and I need to talk to him and—”

  “I think I’ve seen that Jeep before,” Laura said, her cheery mood changing. “How well do you know Jake Harter?”

  What to say? Addie attributed much of her success to instinct. And on instinct she trusted Laura Nelson. Maybe it was the straightforward way she’d presented the Immunone data. When the committee threw out tough, challenging questions, Laura had answered directly, honestly, not hesitating.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, I hope it does not jeopardize Immunone’s approval, but I know Jake well. He and I are…” Addie hesitated, knowing that if her skin tone were lighter, she’d be a bright red. “…lovers.”

  Laura—now she thought of the older woman as Laura—turned back to her companion, calling, “I’ll be a few more minutes.” Facing Addie, she said, “Did you know that’s considered a conflict of interest?”

  “Jake told me we had to keep it a secret, but if we get married, then it’ll be okay?”

  “Look, I’m new to this industry. And since the approval of Immunone is imminent, I’d hate to be the one to blow the whistle. Does the FDA know?”

  Imminent? Blow the whistle? Addie slumped against the nearest vehicle, a red pickup truck.

  “Addie, are you okay?” Laura stepped up, steadied her with her left hand. “Maybe we should go inside, sit down.”

  “No, I have to find Jake.” Her glance followed the Jeep out of the lot—in the direction of Replica. Addie managed to stand almost upright, and withdrew her hand. “What did you mean by ‘imminent’?”

  “Well, Addie, I think you’re going to like this. It’s not yet public knowledge, and, if you promise not to run to the press or to your bosses at Replica…”

  Like she’d be talking to “the press,” and she’d no longer have bosses at Replica. But will I have a husband? So preoccupied by her primary dilemma, she hardly listened to what Dr. Nelson was saying about Immunone.

  Addie risked a glance at her observers. They’d eased up closer. But within hearing range? She didn’t think so. Who were these two people?

  Laura’s companion waved back at her, respectful. Here men treated women as equals. When she returned home, things would be different. Could she adjust? She’d been homesick for so long when she’d arrived in America, but now…

  Laura waited for the answer, but Addie was so distracted, she struggled to remember Laura’s question. Oh, yes, she wouldn’t…

  “Jake Harter knows,” Laura prompted, “but not the general public. And they cannot know before the press release. I’m not much into finance, but it’s all about the stock market response. And, don’t do any insider training. A week ago I didn’t know a thing about it, but insider training is a crime.”

  Too complicated. Addie needed to concentrate on her $7.5 million. Was it back within her reach? Hope crept into her brain until she recalled Laura’s original question.

  “Dr. Nelson, I will speak to no one about this. I am so confused about American laws—what’s legal and illegal. But it’s okay to talk to Jake because he knows?” She needed clarification. Her elaborate decision-tree thing was crumbling.

  “I’m Laura, remember?” Laura smiled and patted her shoulder. Addie stood straighter, feeling stronger. The next two days would determine the course of her life.

  “We at Keystone had a meeting this morning with the FDA about Immunone. Jake Harter had reported missing clinical data. Data the FDA clearly did have, but for some hard-to-explain reason, claimed they couldn’t find. I know that data backwards and forwards, and I flew to Tampa last night to retrieve it. Keystone, too, found the data.” Laura paused. “I know you’ve been calling me about the progress of Immunone’s approval process. Do you know Jake had misplaced the data—his claim was the reason the approval was delayed?”

  “What?” Addie asked, resisting dizziness again. “He said there were problems. He never said what.” She’d asked him so many times. He’d evaded her time after time. What kind of game was Jake playing? He knew how important it was to her to get Immunone approved before she had to go back to Iraq. He knew she’d have to sacrifice the money if she walked away from Replica. There must be a logical explanation. She needed to ask Jake, confront him if necessary. Was there something she didn’t comprehend about American men? What they seemed to want, they didn’t want? Where did that leave her?

  “We couldn’t figure out what was going on at the FDA, but as of this morning, I think it’s cleared up. We and the FDA are having a joint press conference on Friday just after the approval is signed. We may want Replica to participate too. Your company may even ask you to represent them. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. We have many details to work out. This’ll be big news on Wall Street. And most importantly, we’ll save the lives of so many that need organ transplants. We started on lungs, but we’ll be doing trials on hearts and livers and kidneys—”

  “Friday,” Addie interrupted. “Immunone will be approved on Friday?”

  “Yes,” Laura said with a wide smile. “Remember, you have to keep it a secret for another two days. But now I must go, my colleague is getting restless.”

  Laura started to walk off, but before she did, she turned back. “Addie, I want to make sure I understood what you said about the Jeep we saw pulling out of the FDA parking lot. You said it belonged to Jake Harter?”

  Addie shifted her gaze to the man and woman couple still observing her before answering, “Yes. That was him driving. It’s urgent I talk to him.”

  “Where does he live?” Laura asked.

  “Rockville,” Addie said. “Not too far from here.”

  “Does he have any connections in Philadelphia? I think I’ve seen that Jeep before. I remember because my son Kevin had the same model before he collided with a deer on a Pennsylvania mountain road.”

  “Philadelphia? I don’t think so.” Addie’s eyes again panned to the stalking man and woman. How long would they lurk? Once Laura left, should she head back to her car, or walk inside the FDA building as if she was proceeding to her planned destination?

  “Hmm,” Laura said. “Well, I’ve enjoyed talking to you, Addie.”

  Uncertain where to turn, Addie lingered a moment too long as the observant pair approached her, the woman calling her by name. “Dr. Abdul, please give us a minute with you.”

  Addie stood transfixed. What could she do? Run away? Hardly, in three-inch heels.

  “We’re from the government. On a joint task force.” The woman spoke, but both showed her ID cards that looked official. Addie was too shaken to read the name of the agency. Did it matter? The government was all-powerful. What would they do to her? Lock her up? Torture her? Stop it. Find out what they want.

  “Come with us, please, to the Pentagon. We need to talk to you.” The man spoke, after introducing himself as Agent Mintner and his partner as Agent Sharkey. Strangely, they’d both offered their hands to shake and she did, but her hand trembled.

  “Now’s not a good time.” Her voice sounded small, terrified. The Pentagon? She knew it was military. Was it a prison? She didn’t know, should have paid more attention to American institutions.

  “It’s very important, Dr. Abdul.” The woman spoke, her voice firm, deep for a female.

  “Okay, but can we go inside here and talk?” Addie gestured to the looming FDA building. “They must have a small conference room.” She knew they did, Jake had escorted her into one the day she visited him.

  “Please, just come with us. If you ride with us, we’ll bring you back here to get your car.”

  “The Pentagon—why?” Addie got up the nerve to ask.

  “Because our headquarters are forty-five minutes farther—Fort Meade—and timing is
essential,” the blond, good-looking man said.

  They escorted Addie between them to their waiting vehicle, a black sedan, maybe a Lincoln. All three sat in the back seat, Addie in the middle.

  The man told the driver to proceed to the Pentagon. The woman said she’d like to inspect the contents of Addie’s purse, please. Addie nodded her permission. What else could she do? In her wallet the agent would find her driver’s license, green card, Replica ID, credit cards, and her car’s registration. And in the side pocket she’d see the airline ticket to London. Addie’s worst fears played out. Under arrest in a foreign country, privacy violated, coerced. What everybody said about American freedom was false. She had so much to figure out, but panic and a piercing headache precluded any logical thought process. She needed Jake. And she needed Dru.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4

  “Was that Dr. Abdul from Replica?” Louis Sigmund asked, when Laura joined him at the stretch limo waiting to take them to the airport.

  “Yes,” Laura said. Should she mention that Adawia Abdul and Jake Harter were having an affair? No, she decided, best to keep her mouth shut. Laura had no way of knowing what would happen if Addie’s affair with Jake Harter, the FDA project manager, came to light. Would Immunone’s approval be compromised? She didn’t think so, but the last thing she wanted was an obstacle to the drug approval so important to her employer. How different this job was from the practice of surgery and the management of a hospital.

  “Interesting discussion. She’s a very bright woman.”

  “Attractive too, exotic,” said Louis. “So what did she want? A job with Keystone? If so, I think she’d be great for our Pharmacology Department.”

  “No, not a job.” Laura said, “But while I was talking to her, I saw Jake Harter drive off in a dark-green Jeep. Do you know whether Fred Minn knew Jake? I mean, on a personal basis?”